


Rockin' Down the Highway

by big_d_little_i_big_n_little_ozzo



Category: NCIS, Supernatural
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, M/M, This is what happens when I get a prompt and run with it, Tony centric, Tony in SPN, Tony never joined NCIS, spn season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:47:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29921916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_d_little_i_big_n_little_ozzo/pseuds/big_d_little_i_big_n_little_ozzo
Summary: The monsters under the bed were real. That was more than Tony ever expected to find out. But now that he knew it was true, what could he do but try and fight them, try and protect people from them? He hadn't been happy in Baltimore anyhow. No, things were better this way.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Time Has Come Today

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because my friend challenged me to write a story where Tony was in the room when Dean gave the infamous "I'm an Aquarius" interview. Originally it was just going to be a short, but it took off and now it's going to be a full length fic.

There comes a time in every man’s life where he has a decision to make, one that will define the rest of his life. For Tony, that time had come in January of 2001, when he’d tackled a Navy cop to the ground and arrested the man. When he’d decided against joining NCIS after Gibbs had slapped the back of his head, Tony had- unknowingly- set the course for the rest of his life with his return to Baltimore, with his continued employment with the Baltimore PD. He’d returned to Baltimore with his tail between his legs like a kicked puppy, prepared to do whatever it took to keep his job, and never looked back. Working with a dirty partner was never something Tony had been willing to do, but he wasn’t about to subject himself to an abusive one either. He’d take his chances in Baltimore. At least there the chances of someone hitting him when he did something they found annoying was slim to none.

Five years later, and he didn’t regret that decision. Sure, he’d cycled through partners faster than some guys cycled through underwear, but he had the highest close rate in homicide even with the constant change in partners, and he knew that he was the best undercover operative that Baltimore PD had ever seen. It wasn’t perfect, and none of his partners were Danny, but he wasn’t expecting perfect. And the fact that his partners were nothing like Danny- well that was a good thing. At least Tony could guarantee that none of them were dirty. It was widely known within the department that if you were partnered with DiNozzo it was because the captain suspected you were dirty, because the captain wanted him to sniff out all your secrets. He knew he was little more than a bloodhound to Captain Raimey, but what was he going to do? He knew his place.

He was content with his life, happy to let the dice fall where they may, not prepared to upset the status quo. Life was what it  was and Tony wasn’t going to do anything to change it. He was happy where he was. He could pay his  bills, he had his  friends and his Spring Break trips to Panama City with the frat brothers. Nothing else mattered to him. If there was a hollow spot in his chest and a feeling that he could be doing so much more with his life- well Tony was good at ignoring both of those when he woke up in the morning and strapped on his gun, good at ignoring the empty look in his eyes. He had the life he had, and that was that.

He wasn’t looking to make a change. Life was what it was. Unfortunately, life had a way of making a change for you, as inconvenient as it was, and Tony was unprepared for the change that life was about to make for him, the choices that he was going to have to face, the way the fabric of reality was going to be tattered to shreds right in front of him. That’s the way it always went, though. The changes that were most important, the truths that were most important, those were the ones that were the ones that came out of nowhere, the ones that you were never truly prepared for. After all, nobody was ever prepared for the Winchesters.

* * *

“ My name is Dean Winchester.” Tony slipped into the interrogation room in time to hear the kid shackled to the table introduce himself, a cocky smile on his face as he stared straight at the camera like he was interviewing for Miss America. “I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women.” Orson, Tony’s current partner nudged him, and he knew it was because the guy was seeing similarities between him and the kid. He couldn’t help but grin back, too proud of that fact. What could he say? He was well-known as a playboy and jokester around the  station and he wasn’t looking to change that anytime soon. “And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did. Or rather what did.” Winchester looked earnest as fuck, and if Tony didn’t know any better, he would believe the guy right off the bat, but he’d been there when Winchester was arrested. He’d seen the evidence. “ Of course it can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory was that we're looking for  some kind of vengeful spirit.”

Sheridan exploded at him, but Tony watched Winchester, watched his face, his body language. There was a lot you could  tell about a person from their body language, from the way they held themselves. You could tell a lot about whether they were lying or telling the truth just based on how they held their shoulders, how they squared their jaws. Tony had made it his personal business to know the tells of other people, to know what it looked like when someone was lying, to know how to break through the lies and find out the truth even when people didn’t want to give it away. And Dean Winchester, he wasn’t lying. Sheridan may think that he was, but there was something earnest about the kid, his body language, the way his eyes widened just a little, almost imperceptible, but Tony saw it. Dean Winchester was telling the truth. He truly believed that they were looking for some kind of vengeful spirit. And that- well that made this case so much more interesting to Tony.

So he waited until Sheridan had his fun pushing Winchester against the wall, trying to get the man to give him information that he didn’t have, threatening him with bodily harm that obviously didn’t scare him if the way Winchester rode it out was any indication. Once Sheridan stormed away and everyone else bled out of the room, taking the camera with them, Tony melted away from his position on the wall, sliding into the seat across from Winchester with barely a glance at the door that all the other officers had just exited.

“What is this, you wait for the camera to go away and then go over the questions again,” Winchester leaned back in his seat, as far back as the cuffs and chain would allow him to, the cocky grin returning to his face, “I already told you everything I know. I didn’t kill anybody. You  wanna know what killed that lady, the thing is still out there. And guess what, bub, it’s  gonna kill again.  So you might  wanna let me out so I can  gank the creep before more bad things happen.”

“Can’t do that,” Tony leaned back in his own seat, sprawling, legs spread wide, arms relaxed at his sides. It sent Winchester’s eyebrows soaring into his hairline, and Tony hid a smile at the effect just a bit of body language could have on the other man. “See, I’m supposed to sit in here and make sure you don’t pull a runner like your brother in the other room is. Unless I  _ wasn’t  _ supposed to know what that note meant,” he let out, a small but impressed smile on his face. “Gotta say  _ The Great Escape  _ was an excellent reference to make. One of McQueen’s best films. Me, I’m a big fan of  _ The Magnificent Seven  _ myself. Yul Brynner, James Coburn, what’s not to love? But what impresses me is that someone like you knew that reference. Not many people know McQueen’s works anymore.”

“Yeah, well there’s not much else to watch on motel TVs,” Winchester mumbled mulishly, obviously upset that Tony had figured out his note, that he knew that Sam had gotten out. Tony had been coming into the room to tell everyone else that the younger Winchester was gone when he’d gotten caught up in Dean’s interview, but he wasn’t going to tell Dean that. “ So who’d you piss off to get put on babysitting duty anyways?” Winchester forced his own body to relax in a mimicry of Tony’s and Tony could’ve laughed at the hilarity of it, but he resisted the urge, instead stretching one arm to rest behind his head, idly scratching at the hair there. “You do something to make your captain mad or something? Don’t imagine they send in the big guns to watch prisoners?”

“They don’t,” he agreed, keeping his voice light, casual, “But I’m not the big guns. I’m just a detective. Detective DiNozzo, at your service,” he reached the hand that wasn’t scratching at his head into his pocket and retrieved his badge, flashing it lazily before sticking it back inside his leather jacket. “See, what I can’t figure out is why someone like you, someone who is so obviously skilled at lying, would come in here and pull a story like that out of your ass. Vengeful spirit? That was really the best you could come up with?  So I started thinking about it, and I started watching your body language,” his own body language shifted, like a cat on the prowl, going from relaxed to alert in a second. He sat up, legs closing as he leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table, “And what I came up with is that you believe what you said. You believe in this vengeful spirit. You  actually think that there’s a ghost in the Giles’ house, don’t you? You think that Moaning Myrtle killed Tony and Karen Giles?”

“Give him detective of the year,” Dean drawled out, leaning forward himself, as much as the chain between his cuffs would allow, “So you can listen. What does that prove? You believe me? Because if you do, you should really be letting me out of these cuffs right about now, before someone else dies. Because someone else will die. Vengeful spirits? They aren’t your usual run of the mill ghosts. They aren’t bound to one place. Giles died in his office and his wife died at home. This thing gets around. What do you  wanna bet that it keeps moving around?”

Already, Winchester had taught him more than the guy probably knew he had. So. There was a difference between vengeful spirits and ghosts. That implied that there were  _ other  _ things out there too, not just ghosts, but other creatures too. Tony was starting to feel like he was living in a Scooby Doo movie and this guy was his very own Fred Jones. Did that make him Shaggy? God, he hoped not. He’d make a better Daphne than he did a Shaggy. Give him purple go-go boots any day.

Before he could say anything else, Detective Ballard was pushing her way into the room, giving Tony a look that had him clearing out with one last look at Dean. This conversation was nowhere near over. Not at all. He had more to say to the guy. Questions that needed answered. He would be back just as soon as Ballard left. He needed to know more about what Winchester was talking about, about vengeful spirits and ghosts. He needed to know what other  apparitions were out there, if there were any. Tony wasn’t the kind of guy who could accept ignorance and  live in bliss. He needed answers.

* * *

He waited until Ballard had left before he slipped back into Winchester’s interrogation room, watching the man slumped over the table. Winchester looked defeated, his head resting in his hands, like he had somewhere else he needed to be, but he couldn’t be there. He looked like a man who knew he needed to be doing something else but wasn’t capable of it. Tony knew that look. He saw it in the mirror every morning. It made him feel for the younger man, just a bit. He knew how it felt, to be trapped in a place where you couldn’t do what you were meant to be doing. It sucked, and if Winchester was right about this whole ghost business, then the guy really did have somewhere else to be.

“Tell me about what else is out there, Dr. Venkman, before they come and take you away.” He leaned back against the door like he could  actually hold it shut by sheer willpower, crossing his legs at the ankle, his arms crossed over his chest. “Ghosts are real, what else? Vampires? Werewolves? Angels? Demons? What kind of monsters are we talking about here?”

“Hey now,” Winchester mirrored his crossed ankles under his seat, his hands crossing at the wrist as he looked up at Tony, “Who says I’m telling you  anything? I don’t even know you,  _ Detective,  _ and I don’t know if you’re genuine about all this. This stuff isn’t exactly the kind of shit you write home about, you know. It’s not your everyday murderers and gangsters. This stuff is top notch serious shit. We’re talking the worst stuff you could ever imagine multiplied by ten.” 

Winchester was being honest still, but he was testing Tony at the same time, putting out feelers, seeing if Tony was going to take the bait or if he was going to scoff and write him off as not being serious. But Tony had seen the look on Ballard’s face when she had come into the room to talk to Dean, and he’d seen the way she’d held her right wrist in her left hand, rope marks clearly visible on the skin there. Whatever was going on there- whatever was going on here, it was the real deal. Tony wasn’t about to act like it wasn’t. Whatever this was, it was all real and Tony needed to know about it, needed to know what it was all about.

“If you want to get out of here before they transfer you to St. Louis for that girl you supposedly killed, you’re going to tell me what I want to know,” it was said casually as Tony moved away from the door, striding over to the table and leaning his weight down on the back of the chair across from Dean. “I don’t really see much point in lying to me anymore. We both know that there’s something out there, something you sent Detective Ballard to your brother to get help with. You want help yourself, you’ll tell me what I want to know, and I can get you out of here- get you out of the station altogether. Out of Baltimore. You don’t tell me what I want to know,” he slapped the back of the chair, straightening up, “Well, I hear Detective Sheridan really wants you transferred back to St. Louis.”

The look in Winchester’s eyes told Tony that he’d pressed the right buttons, pushed the right way. The guy slumped in his seat, and Tony could tell that he was going to talk. He was going to tell Tony what he wanted to know. Bracing himself for a whole lot of information he probably never could’ve dreamed of hearing, Tony slid into the chair across from Winchester, arms folded on the table, eyes alert. He wasn’t going to miss a single second of this. Whatever the guy had to teach him about the things that went bump in the night, Tony was going to listen, was going to learn everything that he could. This was important, he could tell.

“Look,” Winchester started. “It’s a lot more than just ghosts and demons out there, okay.  There’s all sorts of monsters out there. Vampires and werewolves, yeah, but there’s other things out there too. We’re talking demon possessions, changelings, scarecrows, hook man, fucking possessed cars. Man, the things I’ve seen are things that you can’t even dream about. I could go on, but you’d probably think I’m crazy. The things that go bump in the  night? That’s just the tip of the iceberg,  _ Detective _ , and if you aren’t ready to jump in  headfirst , you’re  gonna drown. We’re not talking room on the door  here, we’re talking swim for your life because no one is coming to save you.”

It all seemed so fantastical to Tony, so unlikely, that monsters could be real, that the things of horror movies could be real. Hell, he didn’t even  _ like  _ horror movies as compared to other genres, but this guy was living proof that there was  _ something  _ out there, that something was real,  whether or not Tony chose to believe in it. And his gut, the same gut that had told him he’d be miserable working at NCIS, that he wouldn’t be able to stand working for a boss who slapped him whenever he did something the guy disliked, it was screaming at him that this was the real deal, that this was what he’d been waiting for, the thing that was going to fill that void that had been eating away at him since he’d discovered Danny was dirty. So, he did the only thing he could.

Leaning forward, he stared Dean dead in the eye, a serious expression on his face, one he didn’t wear too often. “I’m  gonna get you out of here. Then you and your brother, you’re going to take me with you, and you’re going to teach me what you know. Got it?”

Dean was silent for a long time, staring him down, sizing him up. He could tell that the guy probably didn’t take on charity cases, and Tony had no doubt that he was a charity case when it came to this guy’s world, but he was hoping that he wouldn’t say no, that he’d say yes. He was relying on this guy to teach him, after all. Finally, Dean leaned back, relaxing in his chair, and held up his hands like an offering, “Well, Skippy, get to it. We’re burning daylight here and Sammy really isn’t up to hunting on his own. The kid’s an amateur compared to me.”

Tony let out a slightly maniacal laugh as he rounded the table to uncuff Dean, wondering just what the hell he’d gotten himself into. Whatever it was, he hoped it was good, because he got the feeling it was too late to turn back now.


	2. Back on the Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an AU, so I followed a different path for ending The Usual Suspects. Also, this is the first time I've ever written Bobby so I'm still getting the hang of his voice.

Sam Winchester was searching for their vengeful spirit with Ballard, so that was their first stop after they left the police station. Tony wasn’t sure what to expect from a ‘hunt’ as Dean referred to  it but finding the body of a woman bound with ropes, a familiar necklace around her neck wasn’t it. Ballard stared down at the body with devastation in her eyes, and Tony knew that they’d just uncovered another dirty cop, and man was he getting sick of finding out about dirty cops in their department. There was always the risk of dirty cops in any department, but Tony was getting  real sick and tired of finding out that they were in his.

“The way I see it,” he started, looking down at the body that lay between him and Ballard before glancing up at the Winchester brothers, “Your job here is done. This is no longer a vengeful spirit. This is a case of police corruption, plain and simple, and that means that it’s Ballard’s jurisdiction, not yours. That makes this her job to take care of. You guys are done with your job here, ready to leave, be on your merry way. We can’t do anything about the charges in St. Louis,” he looked over at Dean as he said it, “Because you’re still wanted for murder there, but the charges here- well, it’s pretty obvious, given the body we’re staring at now, that Pete Sheridan is the one who did this. You were just a scapegoat. Time to let the police do the police work, Deano,” he slapped Winchester on the back before looking over at his brother, holding back a laugh at the confused look on his face, “And maybe buy your brother a clue or two while you’re catching your ride out of town.”

Dean looked up at Sam and snorted before glancing over at Tony, nodding towards the corner of the room and walking over there. Tony followed, curious what this could be about. Stuffing his hands in his pockets once they were there, he rocked back on his heels, waiting for Dean to speak. Dean shuffled from foot to foot as he sought out the right words, looking anywhere but at Tony, opening his mouth a few times and closing it again. Finally, he looked up at Tony, green eyes meeting green eyes, and spoke, rough voice laced with reluctant appreciation. “Look, what you did today, helping us out, that was cool of you. You didn’t have to believe me, but you did. I appreciate that, man. As for wanting to learn more about all this- well,” he glanced over towards where Sam was talking to Ballard, meeting his brother’s eyes when Sam looked up at him, “Look, Sammy and I, we aren’t really the kinds of guys who take on apprentices or anything like that. We’re no good at training people, at taking on people who don’t know anything about the world we live in. But I know a guy.”

“Okay then,” Tony pulled one hand out of his pocket, running his fingers through his hair and messing it up, “So this is where you send me to Dagobah in search of Master Yoda, right? I’m going to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi master, that sort of thing?  Because I  gotta tell you, I’m all for it if it means that I learn about the things that go bump in the night. I’ll sleep better knowing that I know how to defend myself against the monsters under my bed.”

Dean snorted out a laugh and shook his head, “You say that now, but the only way I sleep at night is with a fifth of Jack and even  then, its hit or miss. There is no sleeping once you know what’s  really out there,  _ Detective,  _ but if you really want to do this, I  ain’t gonna stop you. Figured I’d give you Bobby’s number and address, let you decide if you were  gonna go meet up with him. I’ll give him a heads up, let him know you’re coming, but if you don’t show, that’s that. If you do, well, welcome to the world of saving people and hunting things. We  gank all sorts of scary monsters, and the pay is crap, but knowing that you helped keep people safe is worth it. We operate outside the law, though. You  gonna be able to do that?”

The laugh that Tony let out at that question was just a little hysterical and it had Sam and Ballard looking over at them. Tony waved them off before looking back at Dean, the hand that had been in his hair now running over his face tiredly. “Listen, you think I’m bothered by operating outside the law? My last name’s DiNozzo. I’m Italian. You think I came by my living completely honestly? I’ve probably got more criminals in my family than you’ve got ancestors, Winchester. I’ll be fine. Just because I’m a cop doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to manage a life on the other side of the road. I just chose not to. I can handle myself. Don’t you worry about that. Just give me this Bobby guy’s information and tell me what I need to know, okay?”

Dean looked taken aback but he pulled out his phone and Tony did the same. When Dean gave him the phone number and address, he saved them, wondering for a minute if he was really about to go and move to the middle of nowhere in South Dakota to learn how to fight monsters. But, even as he wondered it, he knew what the answer was, knew that he was going to do this. It felt right in his gut, felt like the next step he was meant to take. Wherever this was about to take him, it was where he was meant to go. 

He saved Bobby’s information and Dean’s too, when the man offered it, then handed Ballard his gun and badge, a rueful smile on his face. “Won’t need these where I’m headed, Diana. Make sure the captain gets them, won’t you? Consider this my resignation.” Without a backwards glance at the Winchester brothers and Ballard, he turned and left the crappy rundown building they were standing in. He still had bags to pack, and then he had a road trip to make. South Dakota was hell and far away from Baltimore, after all.

* * *

Tony had never road tripped cross-country before. The furthest west in the continental US that he’d ever been was Peoria, and that was only because he’d gotten the job with the station there. He’d never really been the road trip kind of guy before. He didn’t have the patience for long trips, needed to stretch his legs more often than every two hours, and his attention span was too short for long spans of time spent staring at the seemingly endless road ahead. But if he wanted to take more than just the clothes on his back and a couple of changes of outfit with him, road tripping was the way to go. Besides, something told him he was going to want his car with him.

So, he’d set out from Baltimore with all his CDs and his MP3 player loaded and hoped that he’d be able to keep himself entertained enough belting out alongside Frank and Deano and the boys that he’d forget how much he hated sitting in his car for long periods of time. For a while, long enough for him to get from Baltimore to Hagerstown, the fact that monsters were real was enough to occupy his time. He couldn’t believe it, that there really were monsters out there, that they weren’t alone in this world. If monsters were real, didn’t that lay out the possibility that other things were real too? Tony had never been a particularly religious man, despite being raised in the Roman Catholic church, but now he was starting to wonder if the St. Michael medallion around his neck did more than just make him feel better about himself.

By the time he got to the interchange for I-76, he was wondering if any of his cold cases had any supernatural explanations, any answers that he wouldn’t have known to look for before now. How many monsters had been lurking under his nose without him knowing that they were there? How many things had gotten away with hurting humans, with hurting the people around him? How many other people like the Winchesters were out there? He was headed to meet one of them, this Bobby guy, but how many others were there? There had to be more, because otherwise logic dictated that the mundane world would have somehow caught wind of the monsters being real. Unless they had, and that was why horror movies and books existed.

Tony’s mind spiraled through these thoughts while he drove, and when he pulled over on the outskirts of Cleveland to call Bobby to let him know he was coming, he didn’t have any answers to any of his questions, just more questions. He hoped that Bobby would have some answers for him because right now he was just feeling confused, and confused didn’t sit well with Tony, never had. It wasn’t an emotion he liked dealing with.

He stopped in Chicago for a slice of pizza and a motel room for the night, crashing as soon as his head hit the pillow. His dreams were filled with visions of what he thought demons and vampires might look like, what ghosts would look like. They cycled from the humorous to the terrifying and read like a bad horror film. When he woke up in the morning, Tony felt like he hadn’t slept at all. Maybe this was what Dean had been talking about when he said that he needed a fifth of Jack to sleep. Tony didn’t see sleep coming easy for him any time soon, not if the dreams he’d been plagued with all night were any indication. How much worse was it going to be once he  actually knew what the monsters out there looked like? Once he’d killed them? Was he ever going to sleep through the night again? He doubted it.

With that dismal thought, he got back on the road, Frank and the gang crooning his favorites in his ear and his foot on the gas pedal. He made good time from Chicago to Sioux Falls, only stopping when he needed gas and when he absolutely had to get out and stretch his legs. He’d stopped too many times the day before, his mind distracted by too many things, but not this time. No, this time he’d managed to drive without stopping too much, managed to keep his mind focused on the fact that he would have answers soon. It was those answers that he was relying on when he pulled into Singer’s Salvage. 

* * *

“Those two  idjits think you got what it takes to become a hunter, huh?” Bobby Singer was a brusque man, who reminded Tony briefly of his old instructors at RMA, but he pushed that thought aside. “What makes them think that you’re one for this kind of life, eh? Seems to me like you’d be better off protecting and serving the people of Baltimore the way you were. Cops are meant to be cops, leave the ugly things under the bed to us.”

Singer had invited Tony into his home when he pulled into the salvage yard, handed him a beer, and ushered him into a living room filled with books. Tony had never been the book reading type, preferring movies over books if he was being honest with himself, but he’d been known to crack down and study hard if the situation called for it. He had a feeling that if he was going to stay here and learn from Singer, the situation was going to call for it  more often than not . He couldn’t see the titles on most of the books, but they looked old, worn, and Tony would bet his last month’s rent that they were worth quite a bit of money on the  collector's circuit.

“About that,” he relaxed into the couch that he’d sat down on, sprawling out like he owned the place. Tony wasn’t a small man, was actually quite tall, and he was broad, so he took up a bit of room, lazed like a lion when he sprawled, “See, now that I know that the monsters under my bed aren’t just a cute Disney ploy to make kids less scared to sleep at night, I don’t think I can do that. I’ve always been a man of action, and knowing that ghosts are real? That Casper’s not as friendly as I’ve been told my whole life? Well, I figure I should do something about that. And Dean says you’re the guy to teach me what to do. I didn’t just give up my career and everything I know on a whim. I want to do this. I want to learn how to protect people from whatever is out there that I don’t know about. You need more people with inside knowledge of how law enforcement works. I need to know how to fight the creepy crawlies. I figure we can work together, have a mutually beneficial relationship. It’s not like I’m looking for free handouts. I know the value of hard work and I’m willing to put it in. I just need to know if you’re willing to teach me.”

Bobby sat there watching him for a minute, and Tony knew he was being sized up, his measure taken. Finally, the old man ‘ humphed ’ and got up from his  armchair , moving to the  bookshelf and grabbing three books off it, carrying them over to the couch and dropping them down next to Tony. “You  wanna learn how to hunt, you start with research. Got a couple o’ guys out there hunting a  rugaru . You do the research. Tell me what you find out.”

Tony knew a test when he heard one, so he took the books without so much as a roll of his eyes and cracked open the first one. A cloud of dust followed the opening of the book, but he ignored it. So, Bobby was going to make him learn like this. Okay. Tony could do that. He could learn any way he was given a chance to learn. If that meant that he had to read a thousand books, he would do it. He’d gotten straight As at Ohio State, after all. He knew how to study, he just preferred not to. From the backpack he’d brought in with him, he pulled out a notebook and a pen. He had a feeling that taking notes was going to do nothing but help him. Whatever he learned about these monsters, he didn’t want to forget a single word of it.

* * *

There were a lot of things about hunting that just didn’t make sense to Tony. Every different kind of monster required a different touch, which he got. Different criminals required a different touch too, so that wasn’t new to him. What didn’t make sense to him was the fact that hunters, as far as he could tell, were doing a lot of things the hard way when they could be doing them more efficiently. There were just some things that made more sense to do differently, some things that he could see shortcuts to achieve. He wasn’t looking to change everything, but there were just some things that honestly didn’t make any sense to him.

“So why don’t you just draw the pentagrams on the bullets?” Tony was reading about demons and how to deal with them, his notebook next to him, already halfway full of notes on various monsters and how to kill them. He looked up from his book and glanced at his cup of tea only to find it empty. He got up and shuffled to the kitchen to make another cup, stretching his back as he did. “Seems to me that if you’re going to be shooting at demons, it’d be a lot easier if you knew that the bullets were going to trap them in the bodies that they’re wearing like bad prom dresses. They shed those people like last year’s fall line the second you get close and then you’ve got a dead person and no demon to show for it. What’s the point?”

Bobby was in the kitchen making something for lunch, but he looked up from the cutting board when Tony spoke, laying down the knife that he’d been using. “Now why the hell didn’t I think of that,” he mumbled, moving out of the kitchen and grabbing the book that Tony had been reading. “ Ain’t nothing in here that says they can’t be carved into the bullets. We just  ain’t never tried it before. We’d have to experiment, see if it’s even possible. You up for helping me with that? ‘Bout time you learned how to make bullets anyhow.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” he shrugged. It wasn’t like he was doing anything but reading and picking at the cars Bobby had on the lot anyhow. There was only so much he could do when it came to picking at cars before he got bored. He wasn’t a mechanic. “There’re a few other things that don’t make sense to me, things I  wanna ask you about. Like iron,” he filled the teapot he’d bought with water and put it on the stove, turning around and leaning back against the counter. “Why don’t hunters wear more iron jewelry and shit? If  so many monsters have an aversion to it, wouldn’t it make sense for hunters to wear more of it, make it harder for the monsters to touch them? They’d take a lot less punches that way.”

Bobby grunted, a sound that Tony had learned meant that he agreed with what Tony had said, but he was upset he hadn’t thought of it first. “You’re right  there kid,” he agreed, going back to making lunch. “Guess most hunters never thought about it because they just don’t think about wearing jewelry at all. But wearing iron jewelry, it’s a hell of an idea. Walk me through how you’d use it.”

“The way I see it,” Tony set about unwrapping a tea bag, putting it in his empty cup and pouring in the amount of sugar he wanted, “If you’re going on a hunt, chances are you’re going to face off against something with an aversion to iron, right? But there’s no guarantee that there’s going to be something iron handy nearby, and monsters, they seem to have a nasty habit of knocking iron weapons right out of your hands. But iron jewelry, that provides protection and a weapon all in one. Take a necklace,” he turned and grabbed the whistling teapot, pouring the water into the cup, “If it’s long enough to keep tucked under a shirt, then it’s long enough to be turned into a weapon. At close range, that’s enough to swing around, grab a monster with the chain. A monster gets that close, caught by an iron chain, you can sink a knife into his gut.”

Bobby looked thoughtful, and Tony preened. He’d been thinking about it for a while, how inefficient some of the  things hunters did were, how much better things could be. Sure, hunters had been doing things this way for however long they’d been around, but there had to be a better way. Times changed and so should the methods people used to get things done. Sometimes it just took someone who thought outside the box to suggest something new.

“You got any more ideas in that head of yours since you seem to be thinking of all sorts of new things that we  ain’t thought of before? We could use any new ideas you got. Hunters, we get stuck in our ways and we don’t like to change what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, I got a few ideas about salt.” He finished making his tea before moving to the table, settling down as Bobby carried their plates over. He’d made roast beef sandwiches with the leftovers from dinner the day before and Tony dug in with relish, taking a healthy bite and chewing before continuing. “So, the way I understand it, salt is used for all sorts of things, right? Protect people from ghosts, trap demons inside rings so we can do exorcisms, protect a room,  salt’n’burns , that sort of thing? But salt’s  pretty easy to disburse with a light breeze. So why aren’t you gluing it down? Little bit of Elmer’s under a salt ring and  all of a sudden wind isn’t going to aid whatever monster you’ve got trapped get away. Then there’s protecting rooms. It’s great to put it under the doors and all, but I know I’m not paying attention to where I walk when I’m tired. So why aren’t we putting it on top of the doorway instead? Works the same way, don’t it? Except now you don’t have to worry about dragging your feet through it when you’re tired.”

Bobby was eating his own sandwich, mouth full. It took a few minutes before he was ready to talk, but even when he was, he still didn’t, watching Tony in silence, thinking about what he’d just said, weighing the ideas in his head. It was something that Tony admired about Bobby. Bobby didn’t dismiss what he said out of hand. He always thought about it first, considered it. He was open to new ideas, open to the things that Tony had observed. He didn’t think everything had to be his way or the highway. Tony got the feeling that it was a trait that was unique to Bobby when it came to the world of hunters, but he would take advantage of it all he could. If it benefitted his learning experience, he would take advantage of whatever he could. 

“You know, son, I think you might just be exactly what we needed in this life. It’s a hell of a mess, but your ideas, they’re good ones. I sure as hell wouldn’t have thought of ‘ em on my own. And hell, if they help save lives, I  ain’t gonna say no to any of ‘ em . We’ll try them out.”

Tony grinned. Maybe he wasn’t going to be so bad at this hunting business.


End file.
